


i look up and it's you

by Euxiom, Snowsheba



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: @bungie lore when?, Alcohol, Blood, Efoh'Suele, Friends to Lovers, Hadakel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, OCs - Freeform, OCs everywhere!, and also past, and trauma!, assassination work, kind of, takes place during the events of destiny 2, things definitely get violent as is the nature of destiny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-04-18 16:52:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14217537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euxiom/pseuds/Euxiom, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowsheba/pseuds/Snowsheba
Summary: “S’okay," Efoh said. Hadakel watched him tilt his head back to look at the sky. "It’s how it’s always been, right. You and me, going back and forth.”(Or: nothing's really fair in love and war, but there's something to be said for second chances.)





	1. of wayward cats and wandering thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **euxiom**  
>  when we post part 1 its like..  
> should add a disclaimer: We know that apparently crops are very different, from random tidbits about yields in the New Pacific Arcology, to people not knowing what Lakshmi means by a rose, to Ghost commenting on pineapples sounding WEIRD, but, listen, bungie doesn't give us enough to work with, ok, i would gladly take reams of data about farming and agriculture and food and everything in destiny  
> LMAO  
> considering we talk about fruit in drinks and all  
>  **snowsheba**  
>  me in the notes: fight me about destiny politics and then i'll fight you about agricultural practices  
>  **euxiom**  
>  god  
>  **snowsheba**  
>  also i don't think people will care all too much about it but the disclaimer's not a bad idea either way

He’d been on break for maybe a minute when the man turned the corner.

Usually when Efoh saw people behind the bar, he would make a point of not looking up - of making it clear that he was working - because the last thing he wanted was an interaction of any sort. It was an alleyway, after all, many kinds of unsavory types, his whole job was talking and he got tired of it sometimes, so on and so forth. Not that he was usually out here for long, just enough to gather his thoughts before he went and wandered around, but he kept his head down and tapped away at his datapad. He’d always sucked at Tetris. He wasn’t even sure why he still had it on here.

He would maintain, later, that he had not actually fumbled and almost dropped his tablet when the man stopped near him and said, “Excuse me,” but it was something of an automatic reaction because he was staring at someone who was objectively gorgeous, wearing a beanie over neatly-combed hair and a scarf wrapped snugly around his neck, and everything about his outfit was stylish and comfortable, and -

 _Say something, Efoh_ , Fiore said, and Efoh managed, “Yeah, uh - what’s up?”

“Have you seen a black cat around here? Trying to help some kids find it.”

Fiore transmatted his tablet away before he actually dropped it, thankfully. Efoh briefly thought back to when he had first gone on break, crossing his arms so he didn’t pick at his clothes or something. “I haven’t,” he said eventually. “Just stepped out, sorry.”

“No problem, thanks,” the man replied with a quick nod and quicker smile. Efoh could feel the exact second his pulse jumped, and he watched the man turn away and continue down the alleyway. Something about his stride - a Hunter, maybe? A Titan? God, but his clothes, his face. He was so pretty.

“Do you want help?” Efoh called before he could even think about it. Fiore let out a light laugh, but at least she didn’t say anything.

“Two people are better than one when it comes to finding a cat, I guess,” he lifted his shoulder in a tiny shrug. “You’re welcome to join me, though I can’t fathom why.”

 _Think fast, Efoh_. “It’s dead at work and I like cats,” Efoh said, and - that was pretty bad, but better than nothing. At least he hadn’t said the obvious reason. “And I guess it’s what guardians do, right. Help out and shit.”

“Thought so,” he said, almost to himself, studying Efoh. “Guardians usually tend to bigger tasks, though,” he added, as they both began to walk down the alleyway.

“Guardians aren’t usually bartenders, either, but here we are,” Efoh said dryly, and okay, okay, he could actually talk if he didn’t look too closely at him, so there was that. Wow, awkward. This was such a bad idea, he had no idea what to say, and he cringed inwardly when he asked, “So do you usually go - find cats, or whatever?”

“I’m good with animals, and Kasper wanted help,” he explained with another shrug of his shoulder. “I didn’t have anything else to do, and it’s good to have a reminder of why we fight out there. Even if it’s in the form of an illusive cat.”

“Guess so,” Efoh said. He carefully kept his posture loose, relaxed as they walked out of the alleyway and onto the main road, and he wondered how this guy was going to find a single black cat. The City was huge and they were only two people; even if they split up, chances were slim.

“Oh, sorry,” the man said a moment later. “Name’s Hadakel.”

“Efoh,” Efoh said reflexively, turning the name over in his mind. _Hadakel_. It suited him, he thought, glancing over to take in the profile, looking away before he started to stare. “Is there, uh, a plan to find this cat? Like, I take left, you take right?”

“Sounds good. I was just going to check a few of the blocks near this one, nothing extreme,” Hadakel replied, holding out his hand. A Ghost with an orchid shell appeared, twisting fins curiously between the two of them, and Fiore chirped at him when she received Hadakel’s comm frequency.

“I’ll take left,” he said, glancing over to Efoh. His eyes were pale gold, and Efoh let himself look for exactly one second before glancing away towards the right. It was a busy road, there were a lot of people about, he had a feeling this was going to be a failed endeavor, and yet.

“Cool,” he said, “I’ll comm you if I find anything,” and when Hadakel nodded, Efoh set off at an easy pace, waiting until he was at least a little bit away before running a hand through his hair and blowing out a sigh. His boss was going to kill him.

But, he thought, glancing over his shoulder, just barely catching sight of Hadakel before he was out of sight, it was definitely worth it.

* * *

As expected, the cat was nowhere to be found, at least on Efoh’s side. He’d actually made an effort, too, carding through every side street and peering around corners and under things, but no such luck. He was supposed to be on shift an hour ago, even, and he comm'd Hadakel to report his findings - or lack thereof, rather - as he made his way back to the Hammering. As it turned out, Hadakel hadn’t found anything either.

“You don’t seem too worried about it,” Efoh said, because Hadakel’s tone had been cheerful, really, or - well, no, not cheerful, but maybe a little blasé considering it was a lost cat.

 _“That’s because I returned to Kasper, who informed me the cat showed up ten minutes after I went off to find it.”_ Hadakel replied.

“What the fuck,” Efoh said, laughing. Well, at least the cat was okay, even if he’d lost an hour over it, and he moved out of the way of a small group of teenagers as he went on, “All that is gold does not glitter and all that, I suppose.”

There was a brief pause before Hadakel responded. “ _I gather you’re referencing something, though I’ve no idea what. Anyway - I’m not surprised, cats are like that.”_

“Old poem from the Golden Age. Got a line in it that goes ‘not all who wander are lost’, and - uh. Sorry. I doubt you’re interested in me going on about it.” _Now is not the time for niche interests_. He cleared his throat. “Glad the cat’s okay.”

“ _A Hunter who likes history, now there’s a rare find,”_ and - was he teasing? That sounded like teasing. Efoh bit his lip to keep from blurting something stupid. “ _Sorry to bother you with the whole ordeal, but hopefully your walk was nice.”_

“Don’t worry about it. I was the one who volunteered.” Efoh turned the corner back into the alleyway. The door leading into the bar was closed, which meant he’d forgotten to prop it open, which meant he’d have to go through the front. Unfortunate, he thought; his boss was going to skin him alive, and he pivoted on a heel and made his way towards the Hammering’s entrance. “Better than standing around and waiting to go back to work. So thanks for that.”

“ _You’re - welcome, Efoh. See you around, then,”_ Hadakel said.

“Drop by the Hammering sometime,” Efoh blurted before Hadakel could cut the connection, and then, when he paused, Efoh said hurriedly, “If - if you want. I’m good at making drinks for all that I, uh, complain about it. Um. - You don’t have to.”

“ _I’ll make a note, next time I’m in this district,”_ he said, and maybe he was smiling again, by the tone of his voice.

“Cool,” Efoh said, distantly, because there was no way that should’ve actually worked in any capacity. He was usually good at the whole talking thing, and now it was just - what was he even saying, really, and he said, “Cool. Uh. See you around, then.”

“ _Nice meeting you,_ ” Hadakel said, and then the connection severed.

There was a beat before Fiore said, _You repeated him. ‘See you around, then.’ Exact words._

“Don’t even start,” Efoh said, dragging his hands down his face, “What the _fuck_ did I even say to him,” but there was no time to ruminate as he walked through the Hammering’s doors. Probably for the best, but he could already feel his boss’s glare as he trotted past empty tables and the few patrons around to behind the counter.

“Let’s talk in the back, Efoh,” his boss said, and yeah, okay, fair, but he’d gotten Hadakel’s frequency, so at least there was that.

* * *

Euphea was going to a gallery showing - a small one, but which she was intent on, nonetheless. Watercolors, she had said, like it explained everything, but Hadakel only shook his head and smiled at the exo, who beamed back. Perhaps it did.

Telem was editing a section of one of her papers, _or_ rewriting it, _or_ making a formal reply to a query raised to one of said papers - Hadakel could never keep the world of Warlock academia straight, but Telem had hummed and waved her hand in a shooing motion, too engrossed to bother with his confusion, and there, too, he only shook his head and smiled.

Euphea and Telem were _busy_ , in the end, and Hadakel didn’t mind that much. He was tired, but he knew he wouldn’t get to fall asleep the instant he wanted to, so he went out anyway. Helmi, conveniently enough, reminded him about the Hammering bar Efoh worked at, and it settled the matter.

He cast a critical eye about the place upon entry; the lighting was warm, and expertly laid out, bright and dim in all the right spots. The decor was reflective of the Crucible itself - weapons both new and old found a home in shelves and mounts along walls, interspersed with articles and images of famous Guardians - and the color scheme was none other than the gleaming white, red and purple. Viewscreens were glowing with feeds from matches, conveniently placed just about everywhere he looked.

All that was really missing was one of the flags that fluttered about Lord Shaxx’s post in the Tower, and perhaps a few more helmets from defeated enemies of the City.

The evening rush was apparently getting started, causing a sort of lively, if quiet, thrum of activity between customers and employees.

There were already a few people sitting at the counter, and there was Efoh, too, chatting with one of them as he did something with the glass in his hands. His bronze hair caught the light, shimmering in comparison to the overcast day Hadakel had first met him, though the bright aqua of his gaze was lost against the white light of the bar, the reflective glass of every color in the alcohol behind him

Hadakel waved when Efoh caught sight of him - and what a dazzling grin it was. Hadakel almost felt silly for thinking the awoken’s eyes could have been lost in the surrounding color.

 _He’s excited,_ Helmi commented.

 _Yeah,_ Hadakel thought. _Is work that draining he’s excited to see a stranger? That’s a depressing thought._

_Why don’t you ask him?_

_That would be rude, Helmi._

_No it wouldn’t! You’re all about being polite and forthright._ Hadakel made his way to the bar in no time, given the other patrons had spread out and opened up a direct path from the entrance.

“Hadakel,” Efoh drawled, apparently having finished his other conversation, moving down to stand in front of him. He was still grinning, arms crossed over his chest. “Wasn’t sure if you’d ever actually show. Thoughts on the place?”

“I like it,” Hadakel said, immediately, easily, because it was true. He offered a grin of his own. “If I can’t believe it took me this long to find a Crucible-themed bar.” They were near eye level, the stool he settled on equalizing the fact Efoh was somewhat taller.

“Plus the drinks are pretty good,” Efoh said, and he was more comfortable here, that much was obvious. “So. Anything I can get for you?”

“Yes. What are the specials?” he said, leaning his arms on the bar. Smooth, polished, dark wood, inlaid with clear glass to expose lights.

“Just one today. You like sweet things?”

“I’m willing to try anything once or twice,” Hadakel shrugged. If Telem had been here, she would have no doubt launched into a rant at some of his ideas during strikes.

“You won’t regret it,” Efoh said with a coy smile, uncrossing his arms and reaching underneath the counter to grab a glass, idly tossing it from hand to hand as he turned. “Be back in a sec.”

Hadakel only nodded and watched as Efoh moved down the bar. His motions were quick and sure, mixing different drinks together, measuring, balancing, and it really wasn’t that long at all before he returned and dropped first a coaster and then the glass in front of him. The drink itself was a soft amber color, cold to the touch, smelling faintly of fruit.

“Let me know if it sucks,” Efoh said, leaning on the counter. “Normally people usually tell me their preferences on, like, how sweet they want things. Kind of had to guess for you.”

Hadakel took a sip; perfectly cold, as if drawn from a freezer, even though it lacked ice, and very fruity. “Is this - peach? Or papaya?” he said. “It’s good. Turns out you were right, though I suspect you’re used to such success,” he grinned.

Efoh turned his head and coughed, though Hadakel could see the pleased smile. “I’m very good at my job,” he said after a moment, looking back to him. “And you have good taste - it’s pineapple. Put some other stuff in to counteract the acidic part. I use peach or mango if someone wants it really sweet. Haven’t thought to use papaya, though, I’ll have to test that out.”

Hadakel leaned forward, swirling the liquid in his glass. “If it becomes a roaring success, how many free drinks do I get?” _You’re_ flirting, Helmi said quietly in the back of his head, nearly disbelieving, if her tone was anything to go by.

Efoh blinked at him, clearly taken aback, and there was a short stretch of silence as a smirk slowly pulled at his lips. “Depends on how often you come back.”

“Keep it up, Efoh, and I just might become a regular,” Hadakel replied, grinning again before taking another drink, and it was ridiculously smooth going down, actually - he wondered about Efoh’s talents. _Had he been a chemist in a past life?_

“Oh, I intend to,” Efoh answered, grinning in return. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Is that so? Let’s hope your talents lie elsewhere, and not with cat-finding,” Hadakel laughed. “But, from the taste of things, the Hammering is very lucky to have your skills. I’m impressed.”

“I’m sure I can impress you in other ways, too,” Efoh drawled, propping his head on a hand. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“I suppose I will,” Hadakel said, meeting his eyes. The aqua color was even brighter and more intense, up close. _Electrifying_ came to mind.

Helmi let her amusement shine for a moment, and it had been a good idea to come, after all. He hadn’t relaxed in some time, and Hadakel smiled again, shaking his head - he was no stranger to smiles, and it was hard not to with his fireteam, but it felt like Efoh would set him a personal record for the most in an hour. He sent a bit of gratitude his Ghost’s way, and she laughed.

“I have to ask,” Efoh said, tilting his head a little. He was almost in Hadakel’s space, almost, definitely close enough to touch. “What brought you in today? It’s kind of early for the night crowd, but you know your way around a drink, so the timing seems odd.”

“Fireteam was busy, and it felt too early to try getting sleep,” Hadakel replied, tapping his fingers. “Then my Ghost reminded me, so I figured I’d stop by. I probably should have comm'd you to see if you were even working, but it turned out.”

“I can’t believe you forgot about me and your Ghost had to remind you,” Efoh said, mock-aghast, and he shook his head. “But yeah. I usually work nights, mornings sometimes, not evenings. Covering for someone today.” A flash of a grin. “You got lucky.”

“So I did,” Hadakel nodded, finishing off his drink, wondering how much the alcohol content would affect him. “Just as you lucked out in the alleyway, apparently,” he smirked.

“Believe me, I know,” Efoh said, grinning back at him. It faded, though, as he studied him; eventually he said, “Something else is bothering you, yeah? You have - I don’t know, a look about you or something. I guess it doesn’t really matter. You doing okay?”

“It’s just a case of the Guardian Blues, I’d say,” Hadakel shrugged, and Efoh was more perceptive than he had anticipated, that or he looked worse than he realized. He rewound, thinking back to what makeup he’d applied - _he’s a Hunter, what do you expect, silly,_ Helmi nagged.

“Getting a little worn down, the whole - _does any of this fighting make a dent in all the problems -_ the usual.” Hadakel wasn’t going to bring up the latest round of post-Hive-encounter nightmares to a stranger, after all - no matter how handsome Efoh was.

“I’d drink to that, if I could have alcohol on the job,” Efoh said with a nod, and he nudged Hadakel’s hand with his before pulling back, briefly glancing down the bar where another customer was waving to get his attention. He looked back to him a moment later. “Stick around, maybe? It’d be nice to talk more, if, uh. If you’re up for it.”

“Can do,” Hadakel give him a little salute as Efoh moved away to fix more drinks. He shifted, turning his stool to people watch. It had filled up a bit more since he got in, the light from outside growing faint and blue. The chatter was peaceful, not very loud, though it was punctuated by a delighted cackle - Hadakel spotted the two women, closer to the entrance, hand in hand and he grinned himself a little - it was good to be reminded that normal life went on, even if everything was uncertain.

He debated ordering more, but in the end settled for scrolling the menu Helmi brought up, and reading the little blurb about the Hammering’s history and founding. _All for a pun,_ he thought, shaking his head.

“Told you that you wouldn’t regret it,” Efoh said, and Hadakel turned in his stool, only to have Efoh pluck his empty glass from his hand and neatly replace it with a shot glass. “Same thing, but with papaya,” he explained at Hadakel’s look, watching him keenly and rubbing his thumb across the glass’s side. “You get to tell me if you think it’ll work or not.”

Hadakel smiled and took the shot. “You whip this up on the spot?” he asked, working out the flavor notes lingering on his tongue.

“I mean, it’s mostly just figuring out ratios, right,” Efoh said, lifting one shoulder. “More of this, less of that, which flavor counters which. Haven’t worked with papaya much, personally, so I had to guess with some of the measurements and take out a few things entirely, not to mention regulating temperature and all that, plus - uh.” He coughed. “Sorry. On the spot, no; I had to experiment a bit. Is it good?”

“Yeah. Sharper. I think the fruit could be - blended a little more, but that might be me. Generally not a fan of pulp,” he shrugged. “How long have you been bartending, anyway?”

“Maybe if I used extract,” Efoh muttered, contemplative, though he looked to Hadakel a moment later. “But, uh, close to a year. Picked it up when I was still figuring out how nightstalking worked and needed to pay rent. Which reminds me,” he said, reaching out to take the shot glass, putting it aside, flattening his hands on the counter, “You’re a Guardian, obviously, but I can’t figure out your class. You kind of walk like a Hunter, but you don’t - seem like one? I don’t know.”

“I’m a Titan,” Hadakel smiled.

“Titan,” Efoh echoed, eyes narrowing. It was a long, long moment of silence, a variety of expressions flashing across his face, before he said, “That would’ve been my last guess, actually.”

“Yeah, Cayde Six actually criticized me about not being a Hunter, once,” Hadakel said, amused at Efoh’s reaction. It seemed a little over the top.

“That so,” Efoh said, and at Hadakel’s nod, “I guess I’m not surprised. You’re much lighter on your feet than any Titan I’ve known, anyway.” He was silent for a few seconds before he shook his head and moved on. “You said you had a fireteam, yeah? Guess you’ve been doing this for a while, then. Longer than me.”

“Five - years, maybe? Not that long, compared to some,” he said. “I’ve been lucky.”

“You been working together long?”

“Three years, on and off. We only started doing strikes more regularly this past Dawning,” Hadakel said. “And I know the technicality about it being a three person team, but if you need some people, feel free to let me know.”

Efoh raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never even seen me in the field. You sure you want to be making that offer?”

“You’re clearly not a freshly risen Guardian,” Hadakel rolled his eyes. “And the distinct hum around you is bound to be Void, nicely hidden, so it looks like you did figure out Nightstalking - ergo, I’m content to.” He leaned forward. “I offered to help a random kid find a street cat, Efoh. Why on earth wouldn’t I offer the same to another Guardian?”

“I see,” Efoh said, meeting his eyes, smirking a little. “So you’re generous, too. Do you have any faults?”

“I mean, I tend to favor the Earthshatterer Code,” Hadakel shrugged, smiling. Efoh laughed, shaking his head. “I’m sure if Telem or Euphea were here they could list them off.”

“Your fireteam?” Hadakel nodded. “I think I’ll just come to my own conclusions on the matter,” Efoh said, leaning on the counter, hands folded, almost in Hadakel’s space again. “But maybe I’ll take you up on it sometime. And of course if you ever need a Nightstalker, I hope you know who to call.

“I think I have an idea, yes,” he grinned. “Convenient, since Euphea doesn’t dabble in the Void much, only when she _has to._ Personally, I like the color purple.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you called more often,” Efoh said with a returning grin. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll be able to show you some things about the Void, if you like the color so much.”

“If it’s anything like your drinks, I’m sure I’ll enjoy it,” Hadakel said, and winked, because why not?

“Oh my god,” Efoh said, laughing, pulling back to cover his face with his hands, just for a moment, before they dropped back to his sides and he was looking at him again. “Sorry, I just - sorry. God. Wow. Uh. Do you - want to get dinner sometime?”

Hadakel tilted his head; he’d have a hard time _not_ smiling, at this rate, so it was good he had no reason to stop. “Sounds like you’re asking me on a date, Efoh.”

“Only if it works,” Efoh said, leaning his elbows on the counter again. There was enough light to make out the flush on his face, and he was smiling but it was tentative now. “So?”

“I’d be delighted,” Hadakel said simply, quickly, and he hadn’t realized it was true until the words already left his mouth. Helmi chittered.

“Okay,” Efoh said, and there was a pause where he ran a hand through his hair, absently, and then, “Okay. Uh. Sorry. This is - not what I was expecting when I saw you come in, but, um. I’m free two days from now? If that works for you?”

A quick confirmation from Helmi told him as much. “Yeah, it does. Any places in mind off the bat? Or to avoid. And any allergies?”

“It’s amazing you think I thought this far ahead,” Efoh said, laughing again, and Hadakel couldn’t help but chuckle in response. “No allergies, uh, that I know of. And if you have somewhere in mind, that works for me.”

“I’d have to check over a list or two, but yeah, I’ll let you know,” Hadakel said, and paused. “I - like to eat. I like to see what people do, because it’s pretty amazing how you can give two people the same ingredients and they turn out a completely different dish, so. Yes, I have lists of restaurants. I guess you lucked out.

“Like I said earlier: believe me, I know.” Efoh tilted his head, smiling. “Sounds a bit like mixing drinks, if I’m being honest. It’d be cool to learn more if you want to tell me.”

“I mean, I’m not an expert chef, I don’t really have time to work on it, but, sure,” and Helmi whispered _look at you, finally getting a little embarrassed. Give the poor Hunter a break._ Hadakel politely ignored his Ghost. “At the very least I can _probably_ haggle a free _something_ out of some places - being friends with the owners and head cooks does that.”

“Free food is good food,” Efoh said, and then, “And look at you being humble. The whole ‘no faults’ theory is still going strong, it seems.”

“You haven’t known me for a day, Efoh,” Hadakel laughed, but he felt warmed by the flattery all the same. He nudged Efoh’s hand with his own. “I’m not perfect.”

“That’s your word against mine,” Efoh said, grinning. “We’ll see who’s right in the end.”

“I guess so. I’ll see you later, then,” Hadakel said, grabbed the Hunter’s hand, and brought it to his lips for the briefest kiss. Either he had gotten quicker, or Efoh didn’t know how to react. He slipped off the stool, adjusting his hat and shooting a grin at the stupefied bartender, Efoh’s eyes wide, mouth slightly ajar, before making his way to the door.

 _I said, give the poor Hunter a break, and instead, you decide to murder him,_ Helmi chittered, sounding entirely amused despite her words.

 _He’ll be fine,_ Hadakel replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **snowsheba**  
>  yo! efoh'suele's my boy. he's 6'4'', awoken, nightstalker, and has a ghost named fiore. good stuff good stuff.
> 
>  **euxiom**  
>  all i wanted to do was make a titan ingame and then i wound up with one of the prettiest video game characters i've ever created and I for one still don't understand it. but anyway, he's primarily a sunbreaker, loves animals, likes to cook! feel free to check out his tag on my blog.
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> (eux's [tumblr](http://euxiom.tumblr.com/), sheba's [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com/))


	2. of fallen priests and first dates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wherein Efoh makes a fool of himself (as usual), and Hadakel finds it all rather charming (as usual).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **euxiom**  
>  me, suddenly, violently seeing missed opportunities: if only i knew how to write things cheekily in a recipe style  
> that would have fit very well im laughing  
> for summaries, i mean  
>  **snowsheba**  
>  you can always change the summary if you do end up on something like that lmao

The job was easy enough: find some Fallen priest and kill it. The only reason Efoh took it at all was to brush up on his nightstalking, practice his void cloak, generally keep his skills sharp, and he anticipated that it would take a few hours at most. He didn’t even have to venture far from the City, just a few kilometers that was easily crossed by sparrow, and then he was creeping through the undergrowth and trees. Hunter on a hunt and all that.

It was comfortable here. Dark. Kind of quiet. There wasn’t a lot of that in the City, and he did like his job at the Hammering, but Hunters needed their space, too, needed to explore and venture and _see_. That was just their way.

 _Heads up_ , Fiore said, scouting somewhere ahead of him as she usually did. _Titan on their own out here. Might want to help out, there’s a lot of Fallen around._

“What’s a Titan doing alone outside the walls?” Efoh asked under his breath, picking up the pace at Fiore’s wordless directions. He ended up at a clearing, just in time to feel the blast of Solar energy and see a Hammer of Sol slam into a Fallen captain’s head, and he furrowed his brow as he slowed, waiting for a good moment to join the fight. _Good technique_ , he thought, watching the Titan move; _faster than I would have expected_ , and it was only when the Titan’s super faded that Efoh turned back to the horde of Fallen. There were a lot of them, but he didn’t spot the priest among them.

 _Oh well_ , he thought, springing up, calling his dusk bow once he was at the top of the arch and shooting it dead center of the horde. His aim was perfect, still had that going as he dropped into a roll and pulled the void in around him, and from there it was easy pickings, Fallen tethered by the shadowshot and the Titan moving in for the kills. Really, all he had to do was take potshots every now and then, and he had to be careful because the Titan moved so quickly, but still. Good practice for the real thing, he supposed, straightening up when the last Fallen dropped, and he watched the Titan pick their way out of the mess and towards him.

“Hope you don’t mind the interruption,” Efoh said when the Titan was closer. “You see a Fallen priest out here, by any chance?”

“Can’t say I have,” the Titan shook his head, and he was wearing - somewhat sleeker armor than most, no giant pauldrons, but it was clear the plates could take a heavy hit. It was primarily bronze, some streaks of white, the mark moving in the faint breeze. “Just out here to get some dusklight, actually. I could help you look if you want.”

“I won’t turn it down,” Efoh said, glancing towards the Fallen bodies. One of them might have something leading him back to the priest, maybe, and he stepped over to them, crouching down by a dreg. “But hey, up to you. Nice sunbreaking, by the way. You move fast.”

“Thanks,” and the Titan’s voice changed. Not filtered, he realized, and when Efoh glanced back, the helmet was off and he was wiping his brow and it was _Hadakel_. Just his luck, just his fucking luck, and Efoh stared for a long, long moment - _how does his hair still look so good when he was wearing a helmet, what the hell is that facepaint it looks amazing_ \- and then Fiore nudged his awareness with a laugh and Efoh snapped his attention back to the dreg.

“Didn’t expect to run into you out here of all places, Hadakel,” he said once he was sure his voice was under control. This dreg had nothing but a drained ether tank; he’d have better luck searching the captain, probably, though finding it amidst the corpses would be a task. “Why are you collecting dusklight crystals?”

“Efoh?” Hadakel tilted his head, and _what the fuck,_ the triangles of dark blue paint over his eyes were - ridiculous. Efoh had the sense to nod in response, and Hadakel smiled as he went on, “I needed some, Telem wanted some, so, here I am.”

“Of course,” Efoh said faintly, and he found the captain in the pile, miraculously, cautiously crouching down among the mass of bodies. Fiore picked up on the communicator before he did, still transmitting a signal, and he snagged it from the folds of fabric and straightened up with a short, hard sigh. _Focus, Efoh._ “I can help you look once I finish this, if - you’d like?”

“I offered first,” and he wasn’t looking, but Hadakel must have been grinning like the damn sun with that tone of voice. “Wherever this priest is, we might find some dusklight along the way, so I’m happy to come along.”

“I appreciate it,” Efoh said, holding out the communicator for Fiore to scan. She only needed a moment to point him in the right direction, quickly mapping out the distance for him, and only then did Efoh glance back. That was a mistake because Hadakel was, in fact, grinning like the damn sun, and _I’m so fucking gay_ , Efoh despaired, swallowing hard. “The help. And, uh, your company.”

“Sure. It’s only fair since I bothered you with the cat, anyway,” the Titan replied, slipping his helmet back on, and Efoh hadn’t thought much about Titan helms one way or the other, but the profile was pretty cool, actually. _You only like it because it’s Hadakel,_ Fiore chided gently.

“Right,” Efoh said, coughing a little, and then he delicately stepped out of the mass of Fallen bodies and said, “It’s a bit of a trek. Hope you’re up for a hike.”

Hadakel laughed, bright as a bell despite the helmet, and patted Efoh’s shoulder. “Thanks for your concern, Efoh, but I’ll be fine.”

“Sure,” Efoh answered, because - every other smart response was lost to the aether, really. This is what Hadakel reduced him to, him being hyper aware of the hand on his shoulder, completely unable to speak coherently, tripping over himself and staring for too long and _focus, Efoh_ , Fiore said with soft amusement. This time, at least, Efoh kept his mouth shut as he began to move.

* * *

The priest turned out to be a harder fight than expected, even with two people.

There’d been nothing in the job description about attacking an established Fallen camp, after all, and yes, the priest was there, but so were countless dregs, vandals, and captains. After a while, it was all Efoh could do but try to stay close to Hadakel and run from cover to cover with his void cloak. He panicked only when he leapt up and missed the jump to a ledge to escape; there was just a breath of a thought when he twisted in the air, called his dusk bow, and shot at the swarm of vandals below - and then the priest was there, somehow, reaching up a hand and slamming him out of the air.

From there it was a clear moment of _here comes the ground_ and then the ensuing pain of impact, bones snapping as he choked on a breath, sliding and rolling across the dirt until he came to a stop. He’d landed hard on his shoulder and side; there was a vague, dull pain there that suggested broken ribs, and Fiore said, _you have to get up in five seconds or less_.

His shadowshot had taken maybe half of the crowd of Fallen at best, and he closed his eyes and resigned himself to death when a tentative roll of his shoulder ended in sharp, fiery pain, ribs aching in his chest. Hopefully Hadakel was still fine, wherever the fuck he was, and Fiore darted up and away as the Fallen surged closer.

And then - light. No, _Light_ , he thought, opening his eyes, and that was a barrier. Solar exploded next to him a moment later, fire licking the ground but not burning him, thankfully, and he gritted his teeth and forced himself up to a seat with his good arm as Hadakel threw a Hammer of Sol. Definitely broken ribs, nothing Fiore couldn’t handle, and something was wrong with his arm, too, and in the end he stayed seated as she worked quickly to heal him. He was standing by the time Hadakel’s super faded, and with the barrier, it wasn’t as touch-and-go. Easier than jumping from cover to cover, at any rate.

It was another few minutes before Efoh nailed the priest with another shadowshot, and it was only then that the damn thing fell. The rest of the Fallen scattered soon afterwards. All in all, the fight had lasted barely ten minutes, and Fiore fluttered around him to check him over as he holstered his gun and sighed, pulling down his hood, pulling off his helmet.

Hadakel joined him a moment later, and there was still a faint shimmer of heat in the air around him, because that was the Forge, or whatever.  “You alright? That was quite the thud you made upon landing,” he said, and there wasn’t even any sort of eyepiece on the helmet to look at, but that was probably good since Efoh had a hard time dealing with Hadakel’s pale gold eyes anyway.

“I’ll live,” Efoh said, running his hand through his hair, pressing his fingers against his cheek a moment later. “God. Hadakel. What the fuck, man. Do you ever _stop_ , or, like. Do I just have to deal with this forever.”

“Pardon? Do I ever stop doing what, exactly - _my job as a Titan?_ ” Hadakel must have been amused, from the lilt of his voice.

“No, just like - ” he made a waving motion with his hand, frustrated, talking was supposed to be easier than this, and he blew out a whistling breath between his teeth. _Words, come on_ , and in the end he muttered, “Heart that is home to a forge, heat from within, the shelter in place; who am I next to a burning star, a shadow behind perfection.” He made another vague gesture, this time in Hadakel’s direction. “Just. You being you. And shit. I don't know how else to say it.”

There was a moment of suspension, then, and then Efoh realized what he’d just said and turned away, blood rushing to his cheeks. _Oh, Efoh_ , Fiore said, quiet and sympathetic, and he let out a wordless, silent hiss as he covered his face with his hands. He should put on his helmet and run, not like he had any dignity left now, good god what was _wrong_ with him.

“Poetry on the spot. Dedicated to me, no less,” Hadakel said, a few clicks that probably meant he’d pulled off his own helmet. “You’re full of surprises. I thought Titans had the market cornered on poetry, but here you are.”

“Yay,” Efoh deadpanned, turning his head and glaring at him. God, his eyes, and the paint, and the stupid grin. There was no chance for him at all here, and Efoh glanced down and away again. Words were well and truly lost to him now, even if he could write sonnets about Hadakel’s smile.

“ _Relax,_ Efoh,” the Titan said, clapping his uninjured shoulder again. “I’m flattered. I’ve never been the subject of poetry before - you’re making a good impression.”

“Great, because it’d be fantastic if the ground just swallowed me up,” Efoh muttered, shifting his weight. Fiore was tittering in the back of his mind, which, unhelpful, and there was a brief thought of kissing him when Efoh looked up and _no, nope, not going there_. “Preferably right now.”

“Well, if the ground swallows you up, I guess the date’s canceled,” Hadakel droned, shrugging as he put his helmet back on. “Pity.”

“Fuck you,” Efoh said, slipping his own helm back on, pulling up his hood a moment later. After this, he’d be content hiding for the rest of his life. _Efoh_ , Fiore said gently, and he let out an inaudible sigh.

“I’m a gentleman, there would at least be dinner first,” Hadakel said, shooting a finger gun at him before he moved down the slope, and Efoh choked on his own spit, sputtering, as he made for the grove they had gone through earlier. What was he supposed to say to that? He’d set himself up for it, too, and he searched for words and found absolutely none. In the end he just followed along, a little miserable, mostly flushed with embarrassment.

Dusklight crystals. He’d agreed to help Hadakel find dusklight crystals and then he could run and hide, and Hadakel waited for him at the base of the hill before moving off and _you can do this_ , Efoh thought, breathing out through his nose. So long as Hadakel didn’t fucking grin at him again, anyway, fuck.

 _You are_ so _far gone_ , Fiore said, gently amused, and Efoh couldn’t even respond because she was right. She was so, so right.

* * *

The restaurant Hadakel had in mind was a small one, clustered between a small antique shop and a coffee shop. It felt like coming home, almost, smelling it before they even stepped through the door. Of course, it helped that he knew most of the staff, and he parried the curious questions when he asked for a table for two with ease.

Briefly, he wondered how Efoh handled spicy foods. There were options on the menu that were mild, but it would have been prudent to at least ask beforehand. He sighed to himself at that, fiddling with the edge of his scarf, but it would _probably_ be alright. It was a nice corner they wound up seated in, a half-circle booth with views of two of the exits, and he couldn’t help the grin at the candles in the table’s centerpiece.

“Honestly, I forgot about the candles, but I promise you those are on every table,” he said to Efoh, shifting in his seat a little.

“Sure, but all these servers know you,” Efoh said, peering around the room. Marking said two exits, Hadakel would guess, generally just sizing up the place, and then he was looking at Hadakel again. “Gonna be getting a lot of looks tonight, that’s my guess.”

“Maybe,” Hadakel grinned, and - Efoh was probably right, Kris was probably whispering to Ramin and Deepka in the kitchen as they spoke, but. “I’ve been coming here for a few years. Don’t know why but it feels kind of like - what home should feel like.”

“Wow, sap,” Efoh said with a grin. Damn if his eyes didn’t stand out amidst the dull reds and oranges of the decor, making his expression all the better. “Part of the reason you like food so much, then?”

“You caught me,” Hadakel held his hands up, noting how Efoh’s eyes flicked to his gloves. As far as his wardrobe went, he was pretty pleased with the sleek grey pair, fingerless with some interlocking threading over the back of the hand. “It’s inspiring, really, how humanity took the need to eat to survive and turned it into - well, chocolates, and curries, and clam chowders.”

“Makes you wonder how mixing drinks became so integral to the night life, too,” Efoh mused, leaning forward on the table. “So. Inspiring, you said - you mentioned that you weren’t an excellent cook, but given, uh, _you_ , you probably dabble at the very least, yeah?”

“Yeah. If I could figure out a _tasty_ ration, I could probably get rich and die happy,” he shrugged, though he was grinning. “But that’s a whole other conversation on chemistry, nutrition, and shelf life, so.”

“Hey, chemistry’s interesting. Could be a fun conversation, even.” Efoh raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. “And really, you’d die happy? All alone up there on your tasty ration throne? What about us peasants down here?”

“Hard sciences and soft words, hm? You’re a puzzle, Efoh’Suele,” Hadakel grinned right back, showing his teeth. Efoh met his eyes without blinking, smirk widening. “And in an ideal world of tasty rations, there wouldn’t be peasants, either.”

“So long as I get the throne next to you, I’m good,” Efoh drawled, tilting his head. “As for the rest - guess you’ll just have to put the pieces together on your own, Hadakel. Though, of course,” he said, eyes glinting, “I’d be happy to give you hints.”

Before Hadakel could reply, a server arrived with their food. Of course, it was Kris, grinning at him all the while with unspoken questions as she laid out the plates. Efoh had gone for something mild - korma, probably chicken. He’d ordered lamb masala himself, because it had been far, far too long, and the smell alone was _perfect_.

“Not often you bring people with, Hadakel,” Kris said, and yup, there it was. Efoh disguised a laugh as a cough, rather poorly.

“Well, as you know, my fireteam consists of an exo and a grouchy Warlock,” Hadakel replied, gesturing towards Efoh. “I had to do _something.”_ He grinned back up at her. “Besides, the more people I introduce to your cuisine, the better.”

“Mmhm, nevermind the fact you dressed up for your friend here,” Kris added, giving him a knowing look. “This looks like a _date_ , Titan.”

“You know I can dress fancier than this, Kris, please,” Hadakel waved his hand. “You’re not wrong, though. It _is_ a date.”

“Yeah, and who asked who? Not you, certainly,” Efoh said with a grin, still very clearly trying not to laugh.

“Well, let me congratulate you for that! It’s a milestone,” Kris said, winking at Efoh before bowing slightly and taking her leave.

Hadakel wasn’t that annoyed, in the end, considering she had brought the food, and it was so damn good and he’d only taken a few bites. “Wow, no conversation even, just straight to food,” Efoh said, picking up his fork. “You sure know how to show someone a good time.”

“I don’t have to do a thing to show you a good time, considering you’re content to stare at me when you think I don’t notice, Efoh,” Hadakel deadpanned.

“I’m almost tempted to get up and leave, but then I couldn’t stare at you more,” Efoh deadpanned right back at him, stabbing at a piece of chicken, scooping up some rice. Hadakel laughed. “I suppose I’ll just have to suffer for my passions.”

“They say artists suffer,” Hadakel said, raising an eyebrow before sipping his tea. “You certainly seemed to be, after the sudden urge to spout poetry seized you the other day.”

“Leave me alone,” Efoh grumbled, taking a bite of food, finally. Some of his pouting disappeared as he chewed, and Hadakel laughed, because one couldn’t stay mad for long, eating food this good. That was Ramin’s cooking.

“I thought you liked me, Efoh,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest. “But fine, fine, if you insist. I’ll leave you alone _after_ I’m done eating.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Efoh said, narrowing his eyes at him, and then, “This food is really good, but also, also. Words are hard, okay. Sometimes poetry is easier. - That’s the only defense I have, really.”

Hadakel met Efoh’s glowing stare, his hands stilling as he set his utensils down. “It’s a perfectly acceptable defense, really. Art is always tied to emotion and feeling and finding a way to deal with the world.”

Efoh stared at him for a few seconds before throwing his hands up, though he almost immediately went back to his food. “You really do _not_ stop, Hadakel. Like. Just. The things you say and do and - hell, I don’t know.” He waved a hand in the air, the one not holding a fork. “You have no idea how many poems I’ve written in my head about your fuckin’ _smile_. I’m usually good at talking, but here I am, babbling about fuckall. _Fuck_.”

Hadakel almost laughed, but in the end he only shook his head, smiling softly. It was - strange, to have such an effect on someone, but very flattering, too. “I don’t think anyone’s ever been _smitten_ with me before,” he said, and Efoh sputtered, so he looked back up. “Don’t worry - I think you’re delightful, Efoh. Poems aside, words or not.”

Efoh made a noise at him that was a mix between a sigh and a disgusted sound, cheeks flushing with more faint bioluminescence as he stared down very pointedly at his food and took a bite. “Considering how often I’m putting my own damn foot in my mouth, I guess I’m surprised I made that good of an impression,” he said at last. “But thanks. Glad I could delight, or - whatever the fuck.”

“Hey, Efoh, relax,” Hadakel put his hand over Efoh’s. “You don’t need to keep kicking yourself. It’s just a date - no pressure.”

“Right,” Efoh said dubiously, staring at their hands. “Can’t help it at this point, but point taken.”

“Would you prefer a subject change? How do you like the food?” Hadakel asked, gently, because it had been a pretty easy, nice rapport they had, but _damn_ if Efoh wasn’t high strung.

There was a pause before Efoh said at length, “It’s excellent.” At least he was moving with the topic, however uneasily, and he added, “I can see why you like this place.”

“Well, that’s one success,” Hadakel smiled. “I forgot to ask how you do with spicy food, so - I’m relieved this ended up working out.”

Efoh shrugged, a ghost of a grin on his face. “I’ll eat anything, really. When I was first raised, I got used to just, like. Eating whatever I could afford, which wasn’t much, so yeah, anything goes.”

“So, you’d be up for my cooking attempts, is what I’m hearing,” Hadakel said lightly, going back to his masala. He usually ate faster, but he didn’t often have the conversation and attention of a date.

“Absolutely,” Efoh said with a nod, smiling now. “Believe me, you can’t make anything worse than my coworkers do at the bar. Some people just don’t know how to mix a good drink without instructions, I swear to the Traveler.”

“You just need to usurp your boss and teach them your superior, chemistry respecting ways, clearly,” Hadakel drawled.

Efoh pointed his fork at him, smile dropping in an instant. “You’re laughing, but you haven’t had the experience of drinking something that looked like it was lime-flavored and then tasted like blood. I do not recommend.”

“I wonder how they managed that,” Hadakel shook his head. “A failed attempt at a twist on the bloody maria?”

“There was so much salt on the rim,” Efoh said, almost despairing. “You salt the rims before you put the drink in, not after. I mean, who does that? Who _does_ that?”

“A terrible novice with a lot to learn,” he agreed, adopting a grave tone.

“Hadakel,” Efoh said, staring at him. It was a few seconds before he whispered, “They’ve been working there for two years.”

Hadakel considered that, sipping at his tea. “I see why you’re despairing.”

“That’s why you should never go to the Hammering if I’m not there,” Efoh said, going back to his food again. “I can’t guarantee anything you drink will be good.”

“Guess I’m stuck with you, then,” Hadakel smirked. “And I figure even if I’m not at the Hammering, you’d find a way to make a workable drink out of thin air.”

“I could make you water, given enough time and some distillers,” Efoh deadpanned, and then paused. “Sparkling water, actually.” He contemplated this for a few moments before he shrugged and grinned at Hadakel. “And hey, no worries. I’ll make it worth your while. Being stuck with me, that is.”

“I’m stuck with a tongue-tied chemist,” Hadakel intoned, readjusting his scarf - he was secretly pleased with the outfit he’d figured out, and Efoh’s surreptitious glances confirmed what he’d expected. “A Nightstalker that makes up poetry on the spot after breaking his ribs. You certainly are something, Efoh.”

Efoh shrugged carelessly, grinning past his flush. “I did say that I’d impress you in different ways.”

“So you did,” Hadakel laughed.

* * *

The date, against all odds, did not end up being an absolute disaster. Whether that was because Hadakel was the kind of person who was just good at lowering tension or not remained to be seen, but the korma had been delicious and the dessert, too, whatever it was called, and then Hadakel had picked up the bill before Efoh could even look at it, and -

Okay, maybe that part wasn’t so great, because the instant Efoh had tried to complain, Hadakel had shut him down with a simple _you can get the next one_ and, well, yeah. That implied there would be _more_ of these dates, and that was a thought in and of itself, and Hadakel had paid while Efoh’s brain was stuck. It was distinctly unfair how much pull Hadakel had over him, seriously.

Outside was cooler, now, a slight breeze blowing, sun almost set. Hadakel looked cozy in his get-up, and Efoh was certain that he’d been caught sneaking looks. More than anything, though, the outfit made him think he should’ve grabbed a hat, and then he looked over at Hadakel and his beanie, and then his face, and then the red eyeliner, and then the scarf, and then it was just a downward spiral all over again, and _this is sad_ , he thought. This was, objectively, very sad.

“I’ll definitely have to go back there,” Efoh said in the meantime because he didn’t have to make this weird by saying what he was thinking, and saying something was better than just ogling. “You have good taste, Hadakel.”

“Thanks,” Hadakel said, smiling softly. “Maybe someday I’ll figure out how to make anything as good as Ramin does.”

“I’ll happily eat any of your cooking attempts,” Efoh said gravely. Given Hadakel’s everything, he doubted that he was a bad cook in the first place. Besides, free food.

“Even if they turn out charred beyond recognition?” Hadakel asked. “But free food is good food, generally.”

“That’s a possibility,” Efoh allowed. “But also anything you make will probably be good, I’m sure.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Hadakel said, nudging Efoh’s arm. “Any favorite dishes I should take a crack at?”

“Uh.” Huh. Most days he just ate, like, frozen meals and prepackaged stuff. The most exciting foods he did eat were when he had a morning and afternoon shift at work and he’d grab lunch from the closest food stall. “God. I don’t know. Potstickers, I guess? Dumplings? Like I said, I’ll eat anything.”

“Hmm, that could work,” Hadakel said, and when Efoh glanced over, he looked a little distracted, hand on his jaw - probably thinking about cooking. “Well, I’ll let you know when I get the ingredients and the time.”

“You have any favorite drinks? I can bring ‘em along. Or, uh, make something with whatever you have laying around, I guess.”

“I think the only alcohol I regularly keep around my place is the antiseptic kind,” Hadakel said, with an almost sheepish grin. “This is why I _go_ to bars.”

“I’ll just bring something, then,” Efoh said, and it was surreal, almost, to be planning something like this. He was already figuring out which wines to bring, knew almost instantly which Hadakel would prefer. “Question stands, though. Favorite drinks?”

Hadakel looked back at him, then, grinning still. “Probably anything you make.”

“Anything?” Efoh repeated, grinning back. “I’ll expect the highest praise when I hand you a glass of water, then.”

“If you spin it out of thin air, I certainly will,” Hadakel returned, but he paused mid-stride, so Efoh did too, and watched as he pulled off his hat - and then he was sweeping it over Efoh’s own hair and adjusting it. It was warm and knit and _what the fuck._ “It’s a bit chilly, and you lose a lot of heat through your head.”

Efoh reached up to touch it. The fabric was soft under his fingers, and after a moment of complete and utter uncertainty because what the _fuck_ , he managed, “Hadakel, I’m a Nightstalker. I’m a _Hunter_. We’re the survivalists and all that shit. Why are you giving me your _hat_.”

“I’m a _Sunbreaker_ , for one, and you looked cold,” Hadakel countered with an air of nonchalance, though his eyes twinkled in amusement.

 _Did he do that on_ purpose, Efoh thought. Probably, given everything, and Efoh stared at him for a bit longer, opening his mouth, closing it again. _What are words_ , he thought, a little irritated, and then, _fuck it_. The scarf was convenient for this as Efoh reached up and hooked his fingers around it to pull Hadakel closer, and then he leaned down and Hadakel leaned up and - wow, yes, Sunbreaker indeed, he was _very_ warm, tasted a little bit like the food they’d just eaten, and lip gloss, maybe, probably given how soft his lips were, and then Efoh pulled back and stared, waiting to see what the reaction would be.

Hadakel’s expression was somehow _more_ soft than any he’d seen before, and he smiled, tilting his head. “Can’t say I’m surprised that a poet would be a good kisser.”

“Oh my god,” Efoh muttered under his breath, both amused and disgusted and charmed, really, how dumb was that, and he kissed Hadakel again without much thought, resting his free hand on his cheek. Hadakel clasped his hands around Efoh’s neck, _god why was he so warm_ , returning the kiss intently, and Efoh was so far gone it really wasn’t funny.

“Is this a bad time to ask about when the next date will be,” Efoh said when they broke apart for air, staring at him. _Gold_ , he thought, _gold, you lovelorn fool._

“No,” Hadakel assured him, still close. There wasn’t a flaw in his eyeliner, which, frankly, was unfair. “Also, you’re freezing. You need my coat, too?”

“As much as I would love to steal your wardrobe, I don’t think I’d look half as good in it as you do,” Efoh said, leaning his forehead onto Hadakel’s. “When’s a good time for you?”

Hadakel glanced away in thought, but answered promptly. “Middle of next week. And you?”

Fiore chirruped the answer, and Efoh said, “Working that night. So sometime in the evening?”

“Sounds good,” Hadakel grinned. _Iridescent perfection_ , Efoh thought, and then, _not now, moron._

“Cool,” Efoh said, tracing Hadakel’s jawline, and this was a lot at once and he was unfairly pretty. To think this time last week, Efoh had almost dropped a tablet on his own damn foot. “I’m gonna kiss you again.” He waited just long enough to see if Hadakel was opposed to this plan - he was laughing, so no, probably not - and maybe it was because this was the first time, but still, Efoh was pretty sure he would never get tired of this, whatever the fuck this entire evening had been, as he pressed his lips to his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **euxiom**  
>  disclaimer: we're not responsible if you google the indian food mentioned in this and then get very, very sad that you don't immediately have said food on hand.
> 
> this was my suffering, as we wrote.
> 
> (eux's [tumblr](http://euxiom.tumblr.com/), sheba's [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumbl.com/))


	3. of rainy nights and fireteam-mates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wherein Hadakel gets taken out on a date (finally), and Efoh meets Hadakel's fireteammates (finally).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **euxiom**  
>  remember how we said "updating should be regular" and then totally shot ourselves in the foot by saying that?  
> remember how we jinxed that?  
> yeah. Pepperidge Farm remembers.
> 
>  **snowsheba**  
>  honestly i am not surprised at all lol.
> 
>  **euxiom**  
>  anyway please enjoy some nice fluff!

Euphea didn’t deign to comment on Hadakel’s change in schedule, quiet as she was, but she gave him knowing looks, amber lights intent. Telem more than made up for it, pestering him nonstop, until the current firefight with the Hive made him relent. Euphea had destroyed one of the ritual crystals, sickly green light it cast finally fading, giving his eyes a break, and they all took the breather for what it was.

“He’s awoken, Nightstalker, bartends,” he listed off the basics. “Why are you nagging me, Em?”

“You know I despise that nickname,” the Warlock snapped, adjusting a gauntlet.

“That’s why I used it.”

“Telem’s just bored and frustrated with her work. You know how Warlocks get, Hadakel,” Euphea added after a moment.

“That’s not true,” she said, sullen.

“Doesn’t sound like it,” Hadakel said, glancing between them, before focusing on Telem again. “I guess I can tell you about it. Where was that cafe you liked?”

“On forty and twelve, Umbral District,” Telem informed him immediately, then paused. “We - don’t need to go anywhere. Sorry.”

Hadakel just sighed, a little fond, a little tired, and wondered how Efoh himself would’ve taken it all.

* * *

“Seriously, how hard can it be to find a Nightstalker mentor?” Efoh muttered, flicking through his tablet before tossing it aside onto the table. “Kalal’Vena I get, but is there literally no one else? _No_ one?”

“Most of the files say that they’re all busy doing something off-planet,” Fiore said, spinning her facets peaceably in the space next to him. “If we wait long enough, I’m sure an opening will pop up.”

Efoh made a disgusted sound, running both hands through his hair. “It’s been five months, Fiore.”

“And we’re Guardians, so we live forever. In the grand scheme of things, five months is nothing.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he said with a long sigh, leaning back in his chair, picking up the tablet again a moment later. Flicking through the listings and names again was pointless, of course; nothing had changed in the fifteen seconds he hadn’t been checking. “God. The worst.”

“Why not try and learn a different subclass?” Fiore suggested dryly. “You seem to like Hadakel’s Solar well enough.”

“Wow,” Efoh said without looking at her. Fiore only tittered, sweeping around to hover over his shoulder as he opened a new window and starting typing. “I doubt there’ll be openings. Nightstalker isn’t the most popular subclass in the first place.”

“Can’t hurt to check,” Fiore said. “Besides, you’ve never tried gunslinging before.”

“My aim’s good but not that good,” Efoh said, and his tablet finally loaded up the results. Both of them fell silent: there were actual openings available, from multiple people. “Alright, guess gunslinging is even less popular than Nightstalking, I see how it is.”

“Check Arcstriding,” Fiore said, and then when he tapped on one of the mentors instead, she said lightly, “Or not. Okay. I’ll go check myself, I guess.”

“Love you, Fiore,” Efoh said with a small smile, scrolling through the information. Hiri’Nimit was one of the highest-ranked gunslingers in the City, apparently, which explained why her name was vaguely familiar, and she had five spots open. _Five_. He looked to his Ghost. “Unless you find anything better than this, I’m going for it.”

“There’re only a few slots left for Arcstriding,” Fiore said after a moment, “And not with the big names. Oh, but it looks like Archemedius Stratus took on a new student a while back. That’s interesting.”

“Whoop-de-fucking-whoop,” Efoh said, tapping away at his screen. “Guess nightstalking will have to wait until after gunslinging, then. Wonder if Hadakel’ll give me tips on Solar.”

“Is there even a chance that he’d refuse?” Fiore said, amused, and Efoh only grinned and submitted his application, feeling a little smug. If Hiri’Nimit accepted him, then - finally, finally, he’d be actually learning shit, not just picking up random jobs and bartending and whatever. Plus, Solar was something else he could talk to Hadakel about, and Fiore sighed and said, “You have a one-track mind, Efoh.”

“Yep,” Efoh said, because, as with most things, she was absolutely correct. The only difference now was that he didn’t particularly care.

* * *

Efoh ended up taking him to a dumpling house the next time they met up. It was a busy, bustling place, and Hadakel could see why he had insisted they get there early: by the time they were seated, there was a line out the door, and even after they paid and left, seemingly no dent had been made in the crowd. It made sense, in retrospect. The food had been excellent and relatively inexpensive.

“I can walk you back,” Efoh offered as they left, pushing through the line to get to the streets. “Unless you’d rather I didn’t.”

“I’d rather you did, actually,” Hadakel smiled, and squeezed Efoh’s hand. The night air was chilly, like the first date, but he hardly minded.

“That’s a first,” Efoh said, looking down at him with a grin. “You’re not afraid I’ll talk your ear off?”

“You’re afraid I would tire of hearing you talk?” Hadakel returned, grinning back. _Seriously?_ Helmi asked, but he ignored her.

“Most people do.”

“Well, I’m not most people,” Hadakel said, bumping his arm against Efoh’s for good measure as they turned a corner. There were plenty of people still going about their evenings, lending its own kind of vibrancy to the streets, along with the glowing signage.

“Clearly,” Efoh agreed, squeezing his hand. “Any plans for tomorrow? I’ll be working if you want to drop by the Hammering in the evening.”

“Telem wants to drag me to the Crucible, but I might be able to stop by,” he said.

Efoh dipped his head in a nod. “No pressure. Far be it for me to intrude on your Crucible time.”

“I don’t often compete,” Hadakel informed him. “But Telem nags now and then, and we _are_ a coordinated fireteam, so.”

“So, what,” Efoh said. “You win lots of matches, is that the takeaway I should be getting?”

“I don’t even know what my win-to-loss rate is,” Hadakel said. “But it does help win a match when there’s coordination, yes.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Efoh said with a laugh. “Not my cup of tea, at any rate. But maybe that’s just because I haven’t done it much.”

“Could try teaming up for it, maybe,” Hadakel mused, watching the sky. It had been cloudy most of the day. “Takes some getting used to.”

“If you ever need a Nightstalker,” Efoh said, singsong. “Though I imagine Euphea-Seven can cover that if she wanted to.”

“She could, but I’m beginning to suspect she’s not as good with the Void as you are,” Hadakel smiled at him, nudging his arm.

“You’ve hardly see me use it, and she probably has years of experience on me besides.” Efoh brought his hand up and kissed the back of it. “Thanks, though.”

“She’s good because she’s trained, but you have a natural inclination to it,” Hadakel said. “Should I just compliment you on something different, like the fact you actually have hair and she doesn’t?”

“You can if you want,” Efoh said, grinning. “Pretty weak compliment game, though. I don’t even comb my hair most days.”

“I’m going to have to show you a hair routine,” Hadakel said, gravely.

“That answer just activated my fight-or-flight response.”

Hadakel hooked his arm with Efoh’s, eying him. They only had a block until his apartment, and he was already wistful about Efoh leaving. “As if you’d willingly run away from me.”

“Cocky,” Efoh drawled, tugging at his grip without any force.

“Implying you aren’t?”

“Implying _you_ are, actually,” he said, reaching over with his free hand to pat Hadakel’s arm. “But sure, if it makes you feel better.”

“Sure,” Hadakel echoed with a laugh, willing to let it go. “Almost there.”

“Good timing, because Fiore says it’s going to start raining in a few seconds,” Efoh said, smiling at him.

“I was wondering when it would start,” he said. “You should have brought the hat.”

“Why, because it’s waterproof?” Efoh said dryly, and then more seriously, “I keep forgetting to get it back to you. Next time, promise.”

“It’s no trouble, I can always make another,” Hadakel said. “Just a left turn here.”

“So you’re telling me it _is_ waterproof?” Efoh asked, turning when Hadakel did. He could feel the rain now - still light, just a sprinkle, but given the darkness of the clouds, that was bound to change quickly.

“It’s not,” Hadakel said, glancing at Efoh. “But I meant you can keep it.”

“It will have a place of honor in my closet,” Efoh said solemnly. “Which is to say, not the floor.”

“How kind,” Hadakel said, flat, as he felt more raindrops on his head. Luckily the day was ending and he didn’t need to worry about keeping his hair presentable.

“That’s me,” Efoh agreed. “The kindest. I’ll take good care of it, though, seriously.”

“Here we are,” Hadakel said, as Helmi keyed him in and he opened the door to the lobby. Clean and clear, empty of people, the lights dimmed and only brightening as they moved about. “Did you want to stick around and see my apartment, or do you need to get going?”

“I should probably get back,” Efoh said, eyes narrowing in thought. “Don’t want to take up your time if you’ve got Crucible. Fiore, any luck finding the driest route?”

“ _It involves climbing onto four balconies and going under several strategically-placed awnings, but yes. Shouldn’t take you more than ten minutes, and there would be only be a collective total of three minutes in the actual rain._ ”

“Sweet,” Efoh said, and then to Hadakel, “I’ll see you later, then?”

Hadakel stared at Efoh for a few moments. He was hopelessly adorable, really. “You could also sleep over, and not get rained on at all.”

“ _Wait. If you climb a fifth balcony, you can shave off another thirty seconds._ ”

“Fiore, you’re a godsend. Literally,” Efoh said, and he neatly pulled his arm free of Hadakel’s to take his hand instead. “I don’t want to intrude, Hadakel, it’s fine.”

“It’s not intruding if I offered,” Hadakel smiled. “Seriously. I’m concerned that you’re so averse to rain you’re trying to chart a whole parkour course to avoid it.”

“That’s exactly what Fiore is doing, actually.”

“ _It’s not the first time we’ve done this_ ,” Fiore said over comm. “ _We’re professionals._ ”

“Besides, all my stuff is in my apartment anyway,” Efoh said, though he studied him a moment later. He was more hesitant when he said, “Do you - really want me to stay over?”

“I’m not going to force you, of course,” Hadakel held up his free hand. “I thought it was obvious I like spending time with you, but in case it wasn’t - I do.”

Efoh gave a slow nod, not really looking surprised but certainly looking pleased, and he said, “Okay. Then lead the way, I guess.”

Hadakel did just that; there were only two staircases, cleared in no time. “Neighbors are usually quiet. Not that I’ve really met them,” he said. “I’m the second door on the left, there.”

“Sure,” Efoh said. Hadakel could see him scan over the hallway, sizing up the place in a few seconds before focusing back on him. “Seems like a nice place.”

“It is,” Hadakel agreed, as Helmi unlocked that door, too, without any snide commentary. He opened it, ushering Efoh inside and already unbuttoning his coat. “Well, here we are. Kitchen plus living room right here, and to the right is my storage, bedroom, bathroom.”

“Sure,” Efoh said again, glancing around again. Maybe it was just a hunter thing or something; Hadakel had seen Euphea do the same thing, marking exits and identifying escape routes.

Hadakel hung up his coat in the closet off to the right. “If you want to take your shoes off,” he said. “I’m not here a lot, but I try to avoid tracking stuff everywhere.”

Efoh did so without a word, nudging them next to Hadakel’s, taking off his coat to fold it over his arm. “You have a nice apartment,” he said. “I’m a little envious.”

“Part of the reason I’m not here much is running strikes constantly to pay for it,” Hadakel said, gesturing for Efoh’s coat, and hanging it up when he handed it over. “It could be - _worse_ , I suppose.”

“And here I thought you ran strikes because you liked running strikes,” Efoh said teasingly. “Silly me.”

“Make yourself at home,” Hadakel grinned. “I don’t mind it, it’s work that needs to be done, but it does get tiresome.”

“Such a shame that I’m here, taking up your time,” Efoh said, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close. “Would you ditch Crucible if I told you my morning was free tomorrow?”

“I might,” Hadakel replied, staring back and settling his arms on Efoh’s shoulders. “What are you offering?”

“Haven’t thought that far ahead,” Efoh said, leaning a little closer. “But I’ll think of something.”

“I’m sure you will,” Hadakel said, softer.

Efoh let out a soft hum and kissed him, just for a moment. “It’d be nice to stay in and do nothing, I guess. But there’re other things to do, of course. If you’d prefer.”

“And do these other things involve less clothing?” Hadakel raised an eyebrow.

There was a long pause before Efoh said, “You know, I was thinking about a museum, but that’s an appealing idea. Perhaps more so.”

“Museums are nice too,” Hadakel laughed, lifting his hand to card through Efoh’s hair.

“So are you,” Efoh said, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “Work of art and everything.”

“Oh, god,” Hadakel groaned, and pressed his face into Efoh’s shoulder, though he didn’t manage to entirely dispel his grin. “That was so bad, Efoh.”

“Yep,” Efoh said, tightening his hold on him. “You don’t seem to mind it too much. Very effective method to remind you that I think you’re wonderful.”

“I suppose it is,” Hadakel said, reluctantly, looking up at him again. “And even if you don’t do anything with your hair, it _is_ very nice,” he added, still moving his fingers through Efoh’s hair.

“Thank you,” Efoh said, smiling down at him. He looked very kissable, actually, so - Hadakel simply leaned closer and did just that. Lips still chapped, and a faint trace of dinner, but he didn’t think he’d ever really tire of kissing Efoh.

* * *

Probably the first thing he really noticed was that it was very, very warm. Between that thought and opening his eyes, Efoh vaguely remembered where he was, but there was a moment of complete incoherency because he was very close to Hadakel’s face right now, and - right. In a bed, in Hadakel’s apartment, there was sunlight peeking through the windows so it was morning, and he blew out a slow breath, whistling it quietly between his teeth, and reached out a hand to carefully rest it on Hadakel’s cheek.

He was so pretty. Efoh had poems about his smile, true, but there were ballads to be written about the slope of his jaw, the line of his nose, his skin and his hair and the color of his eyes, and it really, _really_ didn’t help that he knew his way around makeup and knew exactly how to accent the features of his face. _And he’s a Titan_ , Efoh thought, lightly running his hand over Hadakel’s shoulder. Muscles and all that. It should’ve been entirely illegal for someone to be this good-looking and, worse, know how to take advantage of it.

This close, though, let him pick up on all the smaller details, ones he’d missed the night before: The slight curve to his lips, just barely not a smile; long eyelashes, usually unnoticeable with the facepaint; the fucking perfect eyebrows, even, Efoh hadn’t really thought about those until he was staring at them. So _unfair_ , he thought again, brushing his fingers through Hadakel’s hair, and even asleep he looked breathtaking. People should not be born this beautiful, or be allowed to be this beautiful in general.

Not that Efoh was complaining, because, uh, he’d definitely benefited from it, but still. One of these days he wouldn’t keep his mouth shut and he’d go through an entire poem right in front of him, and it was one thing having Hadakel hear a snippet of a poem, quite another to consider Hadakel hearing three stanzas or more. _You make it too easy to fall in love with you_ , Efoh thought, leaning in to rest his forehead against Hadakel’s, closing his eyes and pressing close to him, and the thought didn’t need any more exploration than that.

* * *

Hadakel wound up cooking more often because of that Efoh’Suele, but he didn’t mind. It was good, peaceful, even, to have something to look forward to - the food and the drinks and conversations, interspersed with kissing, and he smiled to himself.

Helmi laughed at him then, and often, ever since he’d happened upon the Hunter by chance, and anything that made him feel that much happier, and his Ghost as a bonus, was worth chasing, hanging onto.

He found himself lingering more on awoken with similar bronze hair, or blue eyes, where he’d gone on before, and paying more attention to the quiet pressure of Void Light, and it was funny, how swiftly and silently things had changed, shifted, and part of him wondered if - if it was all that smart, really, all that prudent.

But mostly, he didn’t mind that idea too much - after all, for all the Titans’ history, the almost proud traditions of before the Golden Age, of warfare, and all the gore and glory and horror it entailed - Efoh still surprised him with the poetry, though he rarely let it slip.

Surprised, and delighted, really, because he couldn’t help but feel weirdly - _special,_ garnering that kind of attention from an artist - and that’s what Efoh was, really. Words, drinks, shadowshots, and all.

 _You’re almost as hopeless as he is, you realize,_ Helmi pointed out.

 _I’d argue it’s different,_ Hadakel replied.

_Oh?_

_It’s more like - I never expected any of this, and I’m...hopeful, instead._

* * *

To be fair, it was his own damn fault, but Hadakel _had_ asked.

Specifically he had asked if Efoh had written any poetry, and it was because he was tipsy, probably, or maybe because Hadakel looked like he hadn’t slept in twenty-four hours, that he had said _yes, have a few pieces memorized, why_.

 _Care to share?_ Hadakel had said, and Efoh hadn’t even given it a single moment’s thought before he opened his mouth and bang, found the dumbass, it was him.

It wasn’t that it was a bad poem, because it wasn’t - it really fucking wasn’t, Efoh had spent weeks on it in his head - but the subject matter was also sitting across from him right now, listening to him wax poetic about his eyes and the line of his jaw and his clothes that fit along the curves of his body and the way Solar curled around him like a cloak, on and on and on, and it took him at least a minute to realize what the fuck he was saying. By then, though, it was too late; he’d plowed through a little less than half of the entire poem.

“Uh,” he said after he stopped abruptly - five stanzas, he’d gone through five _stanzas_ \- and then he coughed, took a drink from his glass. He didn’t look at Hadakel even as he moved over to the other end of the couch, almost into his space; instead he just cleared his throat and said, “Yep. Still working on that one. Ha.”

“Efoh, relax,” Hadakel said, and okay, fine, Efoh glanced over. He looked less like a person on four hours of sleep and more, well, rested, a soft smile curling his lips. “I don’t know a lot about the ins and outs of poetry, but it sounded - very, very good, which seems a little weird to be saying, since it’s about me, but,” he paused, tapping his fingers on his knee, and Efoh might have been tipsy, tipsy enough to make this entire mistake in the first place, but - he squinted to double-check. It honestly might have been the first time he’d seen Hadakel flush.

“Are you - you’re blushing,” Efoh said dumbly. Hadakel laughed and put his face in his hand, swatting at him without any force. “Holy _shit._ That’s adorable.”

“No one’s ever written anything about me, Efoh,” he said after a few more moments. “So - yeah.”

“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” Efoh breathed without really thinking about it, moving a leg to nudge Hadakel’s with his foot. He wasn’t sure if he had even heard, and he swept on before Hadakel could respond. “Poem’s in iambic pentameter, s’why it sounds good or whatever-the-fuck when spoken out loud. It was gonna be a sonnet. Then it got too long, and now I have no fucking idea what it is, but it’s got, like, eleven stanzas and I frankly don’t know if it’s gonna end.”

“Efoh,” and Hadakel was looking at him now, somewhere between fond and embarrassed if he had to guess, and he reached over and took his hand. “You’re ridiculous, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Believe me, I know,” Efoh said, putting his glass aside and taking Hadakel’s too, placing it next to his and then tugging him over to him. It was clumsy at best, but eventually they settled together into a somewhat comfortable position, Efoh laying across the couch’s length with Hadakel a warm weight on top of him, and he kissed the crown of Hadakel’s head. “Your fault for being an inspiration, though. That’s completely on you.”

“Perish the thought,” he drawled. “How dare I show up and upset your status quo, _inspiring you_ like some fiend.”

“I know, it’s awful,” Efoh said, grinning, curling his arms around him to rest his hands at the small of his back. “You and your stupid, beautiful smile. I got written up at work that day, you know. Worth it, but still.”

“I didn’t have you under some contract to waste an hour when your shift was supposed to start, all to look for a cat that didn’t need finding,” Hadakel added, shifting back enough to look at him and raise his eyebrow. “ _That’s_ on you.”

“And I got your comm frequency out of it, so no regrets whatsoever,” Efoh said smugly.

“Which you never proceeded to use until I showed up at the Hammering a week later on a whim,” he pointed out, smirking.

“The problem is that I’m a coward when I’m sober,” Efoh informed him, and then paused. “That being said, if I had called you while drunk, it would probably have been either extremely awkward or, like, a booty call. Both of which would not have gone over well, I imagine.”

Hadakel laughed, winding his fingers into Efoh’s hair. “And thus, the five stanzas you said in so many minutes?”

“Yep,” Efoh said, popping the _p_. “Just be glad I didn’t say all eleven, the last two aren’t even in iambic pentameter yet. - Why, you want to hear ‘em again?”

“I think I have a better idea on what you could do with your mouth,” Hadakel murmured before kissing him, which, you know? Fair enough, Efoh wasn’t going to complain, and he slipped his fingers beneath Hadakel’s shirt to dig them into the skin of his back, exhaling sharply when Hadakel’s tongue ran across his lips, and huh, well. Maybe the poetry hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.

* * *

Really, the only downside of staying at Hadakel’s place was the fact that sometimes he had to get up early for fireteam missions. Which sucked, because Efoh was a light sleeper and always woke up when Hadakel moved around to get ready, but that was just the way it was. He could live with it - a small price to pay - and it was one of those mornings when Hadakel rolled out of the bed at the ungodly hour of seven. Efoh actually had work later that day, though, so he got up too, why the fuck not.

“How long are you gonna be gone again?” Efoh asked, blearily following Hadakel to the bathroom, and it would never not be amazing that he had a toothbrush here, but there it was, he had his own fucking toothbrush here.

“Seven hours is what Helmi projects,” Hadakel said. “By the time I’m back to the City you’ll probably be at work, so we’ll have to settle for something later tonight, I guess,” and then he smiled, and it wasn’t fair that he looked perfect even though his eyes were a little red and his hair was a mess, but Efoh just sighed and pulled him in to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Just comm me to let me know,” he said, leaning against him. “Or come around to the bar, yeah.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Hadakel said, giving Efoh a kiss on the lips before he scooted back, stripping off his pajamas and starting the shower. Efoh just went back to brushing his teeth - he could shower at his own apartment, whatever - and, once done, paused briefly at the door.

“You want the leftovers for breakfast?” he asked, thinking back, and yeah, leftovers had been a thing, he was pretty sure. Probably. Hadakel had made something Efoh couldn’t remember the name of, and it had been really fucking good, but there were leftovers.

“You’re welcome to them,” Hadakel replied over the noise of the spray. “Don’t know if I have time to sit around and eat.”

“I can, like. Put it in a box or some shit that you could eat on the way. It’s really not hard.”

Soon enough the shower stopped, and Hadakel laughed. Funny how Efoh knew the pattern now, that Hadakel took only the briefest of showers when he had a fireteam mission, longer ones when he didn’t. “Okay, if you want.”

“I like knowing you’re not fucking starving out there, yeah,” Efoh called as he left the bathroom, rolling his eyes when Hadakel said something about emergency rations or whatever. It was an easy task, though, taking out the leftover… something and then snapping it into a box and dropping a fork on top, easy, done. He’d just grab something on the walk to work, Efoh figured, leaning forward on the table, and hopefully that would be enough to wake him up in time to open the bar. “Voilà,” he deadpanned when Hadakel actually walked into the kitchen, making a vague gesture to the leftovers, and Hadakel only laughed and shook his head when Efoh drawled, “It’s me, the master chef. Have a box.”

“Thank you, oh great master chef,” Hadakel said, leaning down to kiss the top of Efoh’s head, and he looked stupid hot in the undersuit that went with his armor, all dark and form fitting and wet, slicked back hair. He was staring again, but at least Hadakel was used to it by now and just flashed him a grin whenever he glanced over.

The silence was comfortable, and Efoh was content to sit and watch Hadakel appear and disappear from view, gathering all of his equipment with practiced ease. Hard to think he’d ever have mornings like these, honestly, weird to think how much could change in a number of days, weeks, and he only snapped out of it when there was a knock at the door, three solid taps.

“Should I get that,” he said to the apartment at large, since Hadakel was currently in the disappeared stage, somewhere in the bedroom, probably. He shrugged when there wasn’t a response and dragged himself to the door, and when he opened it he was left to stare at an awoken. Or Warlock, rather, given the robes - pastel, with the faint pink hair and faint purple skin. An irritable stare, too, and past her, an Exo with purple casing and amber lights.

“Hi, is Hadakel up?” the exo said, mouth lighting up with blue, and that must be Euphea, some part of his brain helpfully reminded him. Which meant the other was Telem. Guess this was one way to meet Hadakel’s fireteam, and he was honestly too tired to really care either way. (Weird; they were both so much shorter than he was.)

“Yeah, he should be just a sec,” Efoh said, and then, when there was no outward reaction from either of them, including himself, he said, “I’m Efoh. You must be his fireteam.”

“Yes,” Euphea replied with a slight incline of her head.

“It’s the boyfriend,” Telem said, and it seemed as if she was measuring his entire worth with her grumpy stare.

“It is, in fact, the boyfriend,” Efoh agreed, leaning on the doorframe, and yeah, he was, wasn’t he? Weird. Telem looked like she could kill him with a snap of her fingers. Euphea too, honestly. And Hadakel, of course, so he guessed that all checked out, yep. “Nice to meet you.”

Euphea actually smiled, though it was subdued what with the faceplates she had to work with. “You, too. Nightstalker, right? I think that’s what he said.”

“ _Ooooh,_ look at you Hunters, making small talk,” Telem muttered, settling against the outside wall and crossing her arms over her chest. Euphea shot her a sideways glare; the Warlock didn’t acknowledge it.

“Nightstalker, yeah,” he said after a pause, eyeing Telem only briefly before looking back to Euphea. “And if you want a good drink, I’m your guy, I guess.”

“The Hammering, right?” Euphea shook her head. “That pun is something else. I’m not sure if I hate it or I’m impressed.”

“You can say you hate it,” Efoh said with a dip of his head. “Though we do offer some pretty good drinks for exos, if that’s your thing.”

“I was being honest about that,” and her lights flared a little, in amusement, probably. “Nice. Maybe _someday_ Hadakel will take us there,” she added, pitching her voice louder. A good point, since Hadakel was usually out the door by now, and Efoh turned his head back to glance into the apartment, but nope, still nothing.

“I work most nights, if you’re really that curious,” Efoh said after a moment, looking back at her. He shrugged. “Can probably get you free drinks depending on how busy it is, too.”

“That’s nice, but I’m not going to bum free drinks just because I tangentially know a bartender,” she replied, gentle, and they both turned again to look at the sound of Hadakel’s footsteps.

“Sorry, Helmi made me double check everything,” Hadakel said, and then took a moment to study the scene: Telem glowering in the hallway, Euphea standing there, Efoh leaning against the doorframe. “Because she was enjoying this, probably.”

“Enjoying what, exactly. Me saying ‘it is, in fact, the boyfriend’?” Efoh said, raising an eyebrow, stepping out into the hall so Hadakel could get past.

“No, the whole thing!” the Ghost in question chirped, appearing. “Telem is grouchy ‘cause it’s so early and Euphea is miserable being the Responsible Mom Figure - it would’ve been better but _you_ are also too tired to react much and flounder.”

Euphea sighed, Hadakel sighed, and Telem rolled her eyes, though Efoh wondered if he saw a slight smile - and then Hadakel yanked him into a partial embrace with one arm and pressed a kiss to his lips. His armor was cold and smooth, and he kind of tasted like toothpaste, but Efoh didn’t mind all that much because he smelled nice and he liked kissing Hadakel, so that was that. The makeup, though - Hadakel had dark paint around his eyes, and stripes jutting down his chin, that was new. And attractive, but _that_ wasn’t new, and he couldn’t help the smile.

“Nice paint,” Efoh said when Hadakel pulled back, kissing him one last time. “Don’t bite it out there, I’d be very sad.”

“I do so much and you don’t appreciate me,” Helmi said, her fins drooping exaggeratedly so.

“See you later,” Hadakel said, ignoring his Ghost as Telem pushed off the wall.

“Have a good day, Efoh,” Euphea called, and her cape swirled a bit when she turned.

“Good luck,” Efoh said in response, unable to keep from smiling when Hadakel shot him one last grin, and from there he stepped back into the apartment with a sigh, stretching his arms above his head, wandering around to collect the rest of his things. Clothes, mostly. He picked up any trash and shit he found, too, of course, he wasn’t a heathen and he knew he was a guest, and only when the place was presentable did he go out the door, making sure it was locked behind him.

Swing by his place, get a new change of clothes, go to work all day, see Hadakel at the end. Then training with Hiri tomorrow, more work, more training, Hadakel again, and Efoh hummed under his breath as he went along. This was good. Life was good. It was strange how fast things had happened, how quickly things had looked up, but he wasn’t complaining, not in the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **snowsheba**  
>  we're out here doing our thing havin' a good time because fluff is good  
>  **euxiom**  
>  WE OUT HERE

**Author's Note:**

>  **snowsheba**  
>  fortunately we have actually written out all the chapters for this already, plus a lot of extra stuff, so updating should be fairly regular... a first to be sure
> 
>  **euxiom**  
>  you might notice something familiar about Efoh's name, if you know about sheba's past work, or me (somehow) - namely, him and other awoken you'll see down the line are adapted and originally quarians! we just stuck with the same naming convention because bioware, bungie and god cannot stop me. :)
> 
>  **snowsheba**  
>  go talk to euxiom on [tumblr](http://euxiom.tumblr.com) or come talk to me on [tumblr](http://snowsheba.tumblr.com)!


End file.
